


Senju Sandwich

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Accidents, Brothers, Caretaking, Children, Coma, Courtship, Cultural Differences, Dom/sub, First Time, Foreplay, Half-Hatake Tobirama, Hiraishin, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Indra's Peacocks, Lazy Mornings, Love Bites, M/M, Mornings, Multi, Presents, Reunions, Rings, Science, Sex Toys, Sign Language, Summons, Tattoos, Teaching, Uchiha Indra, Worry, courting, reassurance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 12,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: A collection of MadaTobIndra minifics. Mostly to exclusively featuring an Uchiha Indra.





	1. Field Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Most of these are unrelated to each other; any with connecting followups will have a parenthetical note in the title. Some of them may be expanded from the minific here to a longer story later.
> 
> I will update daily for one week, and then drop to weekly on Wednesdays.
> 
> In most of these it's an OT3. Ofttimes Indra and Madara are cousins. Sometimes they (happily) share Tobirama but not each other. Sometimes they're brothers, in either case.

An explosion nearly knocked Madara off his feet, and he grabbed at Indra to steady him when he stumbled. He squeezed Indra’s upper arm gently, about to ask if he was all right, then froze. They looked at each other for a moment.

In the same instant, they both bolted for the freestanding lab across the courtyard, on the other side of a stand of trees and a low hedge.

Smoke was pouring from the open door, and a cold shudder went through Madara before Tobirama stepped out, fanning the smoke further away with a fuuton jutsu. He looked put out, his expression creased, but aside from his wildly tousled hair - which might just as well be from his own fingers, or from a nap - and his mussed clothes - equally likely to be from working all day than an actual incident - he looked fine.

Madara relaxed slightly. “Tobi! Are you all right? What happened?” he asked as they approached, pace slowing a little as it became clear Tobirama was, at least, not in _immediate_ distress. Or much distress at all, rather . . . perturbation, perhaps.

Tobirama scowled as he turned, directing another wave of smoke away on created wind, then startled as he met Madara’s gaze. Madara frowned, glancing at Indra warily, then back at Tobirama.

“Tobi?” Indra asked gently.

“What happened?” Madara repeated.

“What?” Tobirama almost _yelled_, and Madara startled, stiffening.

“Tobi! We’re just-” Madara began, a little sharply.

“I’m fine!” Tobirama said, loudly, and waved a hand. “What did you say?”

“Tobi-” Madara fell silent as Indra nudged him.

“Oh for kami’s sakes.” Indra interrupted, bumping Madara firmly. “Both of you. He can’t hear you, the explosion must have shocked his hearing.” He bumped Madara’s upper arm, then raised his hands. _Are you all right?_ he field-signed. _What happened?_

Tobirama cocked his head, then tilted his head, looking at the sky for a moment, thoughtful, before he raised his hands to offer a somewhat muddled response. Field signs were not at their best for complex concepts, and considering how difficult Tobirama could be to understand when he got really going about his work anyway. . .

Madara went to Tobirama, Indra on his heels. _Let me check you over_, he signed, then reached for Tobirama. He sighed, but surrendered to their hands, relaxing a little. He went almost pliant when they finished their quick inspection - he was unhurt, not even carrying any scrapes or signs of proto-bruising - and hugged him between them.


	2. Madara's Coma (watchful & waking)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _next in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48055930)

Tobirama smoothed his free hand over Madara’s wrist, mouth twisted and jaw tight with worry. He tightened his grip around Madara’s limp fingers, then made himself gentle it again. Squeezing harder wouldn’t get him to wake.

Tobirama swallowed, closing his eyes against the burning feeling of tears, and bent closer to the bed. Madara would be fine, he told himself, half sure and half desperate hope.

“He’ll wake.” Indra said, voice low. Tobirama lifted his head, looking up to where Indra had Madara’s head cradled in his lap, stroking his brow and gripping his shoulder. “He’s strong. He’ll wake. You’ll be all right, ember-love,” he ran his fingers through Madara’s fringe, “you will. . .”

Indra’s face was pale and drawn, and Tobirama knew he couldn’t look much better. Indra had been handling Madara’s duties as Clan Head, and then been saddled with some of Tobirama’s as well when he had bolted out of the village to find Madara before his guttering chakra went completely quiet. It had left Indra alone with no idea what was happening to either of them, struggling to hold both their places in the village.

Until three days ago, when Tobirama had brought Madara back, worn nearly to exhaustion himself, and neither of them had left his side since. He hadn’t woken, nor responded at all, to _anything_.

Tobirama stroked the back of Madara’s hand again. _Please_, he thought desperately, looking at Madara’s still, slack face, _please wake. We **need** you. . . Come back, beloved._


	3. Madara's Mind (watchful & waking)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _previous in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48015772)

Madara felt heavy and sick, his head throbbing, and he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He took a shallow breath and wanted to die for a moment.

Wherever he was, though, there was a familiar strong, elegant hand tangled with his own - Tobirama - and another, broader one wrapped around his other hand, resting near his shoulder - Indra. Wherever he was, he was safe, with them at his sides.

Madara took another, cautious breath, tightening his hands around his lovers’. There was living warmth against his shoulders and neck, cradling him. Indra, who held his hand close against that same warmth.

“Ember-love!”

“_Madara._”

Madara’s breath caught and his chest ached and he found himself wheezing in broken little coughs, choking. He clutched weakly at his lovers’ hands and was only vaguely aware of being supported and brought gently higher, and then a light touch rippling with chakra at his throat.

“Easy, beloved,” Tobirama was murmuring over and over when he could _breathe_ again, falling limp against- against Indra’s chest and shoulder, “easy, breathe, slow.”

Madara took a slow breath, keeping it shallow again. He opened his eyes, needing to _see_ them, to have the assurance. . .

Tobirama’s rich ruby eyes were shadowed with purple and for a moment Madara’s muddled mind filled in Indra’s markings before realising they were bruise-dark. His face lit with joy as he met Madara’s eyes though, his sharp mouth curling in a broad smile.

“_Beloved._” Tobirama breathed, reaching up and stroking Madara’s cheek. “No, don’t talk, give yourself a chance.”

“Storm-heart?” Indra questioned, then an arm wound around Madara’s waist from behind him and Indra hugged him tighter. “Oh _Madara_. Oh kami- Bless, ember-love.” Indra clung to him, face pressing against his shoulder, hot tears dripping against his skin.

Madara swallowed thickly, shifting his left hand, the one in Tobirama’s grasp. He couldn’t really pull, could barely squeeze gently, but he didn’t have to do anything more and Tobirama was moving closer, pressing against his side supportively.

Madara took a slightly deeper breath and whimpered in pain, body throbbing. He was exhausted and while he desperately wanted to speak with his lovers, to reassure them, to be reassured in turn. . .

“Rest, ember-love.” Indra said gently, nuzzling him. “We’re here. We’ll be here.”

Madara sighed and closed his eyes, slumped in their arms as he faded back into blackness, though it was warmer and softer this time, less cloying and choking. Safe. He sighed.


	4. Tattoos

“Oh. _Oh fuck._”

Madara tensed, dropping the yukata he’d been sliding off and bolting into the bedroom only to nearly stumble, eyes wide, as he realised what Indra had been cursing over.

Tobirama’s hands curled tighter in the edges of his yukata, beginning to slide it back up as he turned towards them.

“No!” Madara protested immediately, moving towards him. Indra just made a faintly strangled sound. “No, please, you’re gorgeous,” he said, catching the edge of Tobirama’s yukata and pushing it down, “we’ve just never seen you. . .” he trailed off as Tobirama allowed the yukata to be pushed down, then away entirely.

It bared the expanse of his pale back, which was remarkably light on scars, but patterned dramatically with stripes and swooping curves of brilliant red. Madara’s breath caught as he saw they wrapped around him and went up his chest and down his belly, two slanting, curving points even extending almost to the base of his half-hard cock.

Madara swallowed.

“How have we never seen these?” Indra asked, his voice not quite steady, as he trailed a hand over Tobirama’s chest, following one of the brilliant lines.

Tobirama blinked and glanced down at himself. “I . . . keep them hidden with a minor henge when I’m on a mission or. . . I’m sorry?” he offered.

“You _should_ be.” Madara said absently. “They’re fucking sexy.”

“What?” Tobirama’s voice was a bit off.

“Sorry, did you somehow not know that?” Indra asked, fingers dancing down Tobirama’s belly and smoothing over his hips. “Kami, you are so beautiful, and these are. . .”

“Oh.” Tobirama pinked, and Madara kissed him, drawing him in just a little too hard, their bodies thumping into one another. Tobirama made a tiny muffled sound, hips hitching, cock hardening further against Madara’s hip.

“As recompense you should let us map out every last line.” Indra said throatily, pressing himself against Tobirama’s back, squeezing him firmly between them.

It made it easy to feel Tobirama’s reactions, particularly as he shivered all the way down to his toes, almost whining.

“Will you let us play?” Madara asked, voice low. “You’re so tempting. . .”

“Please.” Indra added, belatedly, hands rubbing up from Tobirama’s hips.

He shivered again, arching and tilting his head to kiss Indra over his own shoulder, leaning against them both. “If. . . If you wish.” he agreed, rosy flush deepening just a little.

Madara and Indra locked eyes, grinning, in perfect agreement with each other.


	5. Wanting (Awkward Uchiha)

Stirring the soup idly, Tobirama glanced over his shoulder. “Could one of you hand me- Yes, that.” He nodded as both his lovers realised he needed the lid of the soup pot, reaching out to accept it, then resisted the urge to roll his eyes at them as they both hurried to get it, only to _both_ yank back empty-handed and blushing as their hands brushed on its handle.

“Quickly, please?” Tobirama prompted when Madara only ducked his head, eyeing Indra from beneath his wild hair, and Indra stiffened and cleared his throat, face cooling with the aristocratic mask he wore only too well.

It wasn’t exactly immediately pressing - the soup was fine - but at this rate they’d both be useless. Indra coughed and glanced at the pot lid, then pointedly stepped away with a half turn, picking up the knife he had been using to slice nori.

Once he was safely busy elsewhere Madara actually brought the pot lid to Tobirama, and he hid a sigh and kissed his lover’s cheek. Madara smiled at him, relaxing a little, and Tobirama smiled back, covering the soup - finally - and glancing from one of his ridiculous Uchiha to the other.

. . .he was going to have to _do something_, he thought wryly. They’d always been ridiculous, but the blushes and awkwardness when they so much as touched hands now. . .

Their brother was likely to notice soon, as well, and _that_ was a conversation Tobirama suspected _none_ of them wished to have. Particularly not before sorting out the newly developed attraction between themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _next in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48156865)


	6. Sharing (Awkward Uchiha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _previous in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48122086)

“But we-!”

“_Tobirama!_”

Tobirama sat back against the headboard, crossing his legs where he had them stretched out along the bed, and raised an eyebrow at his lovers. They glanced at each other and blushed a little deeper.

“You’re both mine, are you not?” Tobirama asked, and heat flared in both pairs of dark eyes, as he had known it would. Indra’s flush receded and Madara put a hand on his thigh, and he smiled at them, extending a hand to each. “Sharing you . . . there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” he wheedled.

Indra blushed again, ducking his head and pulling away a little, though he didn’t withdraw his hand from Tobirama’s.

Madara squirmed. Tobirama shifted, brushing his thigh against Madara’s knee. “I love you both.” he said, and took pity . . . at least for this once. “I’ve seen the way you react to one another . . . and I want to see you together, _truly_, not only sharing me.”

Madara’s eyes widened. Tobirama smirked at him and tugged gently, bringing him in eagerly to accept a kiss. Tobirama glanced at Indra, who looked both deeply uncomfortable and painfully longing. He tilted his head and beckoned to Indra as well.

Indra took Tobirama’s offered kiss easily, but pulled in on himself in a way he so rarely did, so confident and aggressive by nature. Keeping himself away from even the slightest contact with Madara, even across Tobirama’s body.

It wasn’t _why_ he was doing this, but if this continued as it had been Tobirama’s bed would soon be a very awkward and lacking place. He was _entirely_ too happily used to being the focus of both his lovers and if they couldn’t so much as touch one another or _look_ at each other in bed. . .

“You’re going to have to start things, darling.” Tobirama said softly to Madara, squeezing his hand, then dropping it and running his knuckles up Madara’s ribs. “He’s too afraid.”

Madara startled, looking from Tobirama to Indra, then back. Tobirama smiled encouragingly, and Madara took a breath, eyes sparking with determination. He moved closer and Indra recoiled, eyes widening. Madara touched his cheek, hesitating for a moment. “Indra-nii?” he said softly, and Indra cringed. “Do you not want. . .”

“I _can’t_, you’re my. . .” Indra trailed off, his face showing his turmoil but still shaded with longing. Madara knew him too well to miss it.

Madara kissed him, soft but not quick, lingering and tentatively teasing him into surrendering to it, slowly allowing it to deepen. Tobirama’s breath caught. He had said it was _his_ desire to nudge them into action when they _wanted_ but were too cautious and ashamed to _have_, and it hadn’t been a lie though it _had_ been offered for their sake, but this. . .

Tobirama’s blood pulsed with heat watching them as Indra raised his free hand - the left still twined with Tobirama’s - to Madara’s hair, stroking, then catching a fistful and nudging him into tilting his head, allowing Indra to kiss him more fiercely. Madara moaned, nearly falling back against Tobirama’s side, and a shiver ran through Tobirama as he watched, breath catching.


	7. To Be Borne

“I- I can’t. I can’t, I can’t. . .”

Madara glanced at Indra, heart squeezing painfully, then dropped his own cuff back to the table and wrapped his arms around his lover. “Tobi? S- Sweetheart?”

Tobirama shuddered in his arms, voice breaking. “I _can’t_, I can’t put it on, I can’t. . .” He gave the cuff a hateful look, but he was flushed and sickly pale beneath it. Madara frowned, rubbing Tobirama’s side and rocking gently.

Indra took a step, then folded himself down to the bench on Tobirama’s other side. “I’m sorry, my love.” he said softly, resting his brow against Tobirama’s temple. “I wish there were another way, I would never ask this of you, of either of you. . .”

“You, too.” Madara pointed out, frown deepening.

Indra smiled crookedly. “I would do anything for you.” he said quietly, and Madara hurt a little with the knowledge that he meant it completely. That if Indra had been faced with far worse than suppressing his chakra and pretending to be someone - something - he was not to find them and smuggle them out . . . he would have done it.

It was humbling and painful.

“I love you.” Tobirama said roughly, leaning into Indra, and his broken little smile eased into something softer, if sorrowful.

“I love you both.” Indra murmured. “With all that I am, to the ends of the world and back.”

Madara took a breath, kissing Tobirama’s cheek, then reached for the cuff. His fingers trembled. He winced, but turned to his lovers. Indra met Madara’s eyes and a wrecked look came into his own, but he swallowed and held out his hand. “Would it be better?” he asked. “If I did it?”

Madara didn’t want to ask it of him, but. . . “Please.” He nodded. “I- I can bear it, if you do it.”

Indra smiled weakly and took the cuff, the match to the one he wore already, and the one lying before Tobirama. He slid it onto Madara’s wrist and locked it into place with a sweep of his thumb, and Madara fought down the retching twist of nausea as the world . . . _ebbed_.

Tobirama whimpered, and Madara wrapped his arms around his lover, unable to feel the wash of his deep, wilful chakra and uncomfortable with the lack. He bit his lip and looked over Tobirama’s bowed head and shoulders to Indra. “Do you. . .” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Could you bear it, if it was us? If you didn’t have to do it yourself?” he asked, because Tobirama _must_, and they had little time.

Tobirama swallowed audibly, then closed his eyes. “Do it.” he said flatly.

Madara’s chest hurt, but he reached for the cuff and nudged Tobirama back against Indra’s chest. “Hold him, I’ll. . .”

Indra gave Madara a sympathetic look and twined his arms around Tobirama, crooning to him and pressing their bodies close together, murmuring reassurances. Madara echoed them and slid in close, kissing Tobirama’s hand before he slipped the cuff over it to lock around his lover’s wrist.

The cuff flared dully and Tobirama let out a tiny, half-stifled scream, then pressed hard against Indra, hands tightening in a painful cling on Madara. They exchanged a worried look, but-

“Tobi?”

Tobirama whimpered, tears in his eyes, but struggled to his feet without releasing either of them. “We- We have to go.” he said, voice cracking. The chime was sounding out in the city; they had a quarter of an hour to get into place to make their way out before they would be trapped for at least another day.


	8. Playing Dirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last daily update (at least for now); look for a new minific every Wednesday instead. ^.^

“Down.” Indra ordered, pointing.

Tobirama raised an eyebrow, and Indra smirked playfully.

“You heard me.” He tilted his head towards the bed. “_Down_, Tobira.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes, but stretched languidly and moved to the bed, parting his yukata and letting it slide from his shoulders and down, pooling on the floor behind him as he walked. He smiled slightly as he heard Indra’s breath catch, then crawled up onto the bed and slid to his belly, folding his arms beneath his head.

“You know,” Indra said softly as he climbed onto the bed as well, straddling Tobirama’s hips, “if you did _that_ on your way to the bedroom, it would probably work at least as well.”

Tobirama pinked, hiding a laugh in his arms.

Indra hummed, shifting above Tobirama. A moment later he was pouring a rich sandalwood oil over Tobirama’s back, spreading it with his hands. Tobirama sighed and Indra hummed, pressing more firmly, smooth strokes up and down, exploring his back and beginning to knead his tight muscles.

Tobirama moaned, jerking under a particularly _perfect_ bit of pressure. He could feel Indra’s erection against his ass, and resisted the urge to shift and tease against it again.

“You’re so lovely like this.” Indra said softly, and Tobirama was glad he wasn’t looking his lover in the face. Indra bent over him and kissed his shoulder, hands smoothing down to his hips on either side.

“Can you two-” Madara sputtered, losing his words midsentence as he stilled in the doorway, then moaned.

Tobirama shifted, finding the movement coming naturally more languid than he had intended, and looked over at their lover, still dressed for work, wearing his reading glasses, with ink spots on his hands. Madara swallowed thickly, making a choked little noise.

“Tobira spent too much time working and his back is a _mess_,” Indra said with a little huff, “I am just _fixing it_. I thought you were _busy_, anyway.”

“I- I am. Was. _Am._” Madara said, drifting closer to the bed. “I. . .”

“Yes?” Tobirama prompted when Madara was silent for a few moments. His voice came out throaty and deep, and a shiver ran through Madara.

Madara bumped lightly into the side of the bed and sank a hand into Indra’s hair, catching him at the nape of his neck and dragging him in for a hard, filthy kiss. “You are playing dirty.” he said as they parted again.

“_Ninja._” Tobirama said lazily, pulling his knees up under himself slowly - his ass nudged up against Indra’s erection and made him twitch, moaning - and kneeling up, leaning into his lovers in the same movement.


	9. Misbehaviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is D/s, and includes taking subs to task for misbehaviour, with non-physical 'punishments'.

“Down.” Tobirama said firmly, pushing his fingers gently through wild, silky hair.

“What?” Madara frowned. “Don’t-”

“_Down._” Tobirama ordered, twining his fingers tighter in Madara’s hair, and Indra’s as well, making him moan as he sank willingly to his knees. Madara grumbled and huffed, but he followed suit under Tobirama’s other hand a beat later, a faint flush washing over his face. “Good pets.” Tobirama murmured, and Indra swallowed as a shiver ran down his spine, a slow coil of warmth unfurling in his stomach.

“At least,” Tobirama said, tugging their hair gently, “you are _now_. Skipping meals and snapping at the children running messages when they reminded you, Indra?” he made a disapproving noise and Indra wilted, whining. “Picking fights in the office, Madara?”

“I was not!” Madara protested sharply, lifting his head and tugging against Tobirama’s grip on his hair in the process; Indra could see the shiver run through him at the pull. “It was _not_ my fault, that blasted Nara kept-”

“You were picking fights.” Tobirama said flatly. “You can control yourself far better than that, whatever some idiot does. You had a goal and you let yourself drop it in favour of the quick gratification of taking your temper out on someone. Even if he was picking at you in return.”

Madara whined, dipping his head and squirming uncomfortably.

Indra happened to know - had overheard - Tobirama had dressed Nara himself down quite severely already, and left the man almost cringing.

“Indra. . .” Tobirama said, an almost warning tone.

“I was busy.” Indra said defensively, but it was weak and he leaned into Tobirama apologetically.

“You’re always busy.” Tobirama reminded, and Indra sighed, making a capitulatory noise.

“Indra, apologise to the children tomorrow,” Tobirama ordered, smoothing his fingers through Indra’s hair and caressing his face, “and do better. Take care of yourself for me, pet.”

Indra’s toes curled as he fidgeted, nuzzling into Tobirama’s touch. “Yes, Tobi.” he promised after a moment.

“Madara, tonight you’ll watch and _control yourself_ and not touch, for fifteen minutes,” Tobi said firmly, and Madara winced, “and you won’t be working with Nara alone any more.” he added softly, stroking Madara’s cheek. “It wasn’t wholly your fault.”

“. . .yes, Tobi.” Madara said softly, tension seeping out of him as he leaned into Tobirama’s body, nuzzling his hip.

Tobirama’s hands tightened in both their hair, pulling firmly enough to sting as Indra’s head was tugged away and his back arched. He let out a soft cry of surprise, echoed by Madara’s low moan.

“Good pets.” Tobirama praised, shifting his weight. “It was a very long day. . . Help me relax?” he asked, invited, as his grip eased.


	10. Symbol (Rings)

“A ring?” Tobirama questioned, looking between his lovers. They looked at each other for a long, silent moment, and he tugged at their hands. “I’m not . . . arguing, just curious.”

Indra nodded, but his mouth was slightly twisted, and he didn’t speak.

Madara rubbed his thumb over Tobirama’s hand and tugged gently, leaning to kiss Tobirama’s cheek. “We know it’s not . . . a universal tradition, that it’s merely ours, but if you would,” he paused, “if you would _like it_,” he corrected, “then. . .”

“We would like to give you this. To have you carry it.” Indra said softly.

“Like a marker?” Tobirama asked, arching an eyebrow, lips quirking. Uchiha, he had found, were . . . devoted, dedicated, _possessive_ creatures.

“. . .something like that.” Madara agreed. “It wouldn’t necessarily bear a mark of any kind, though. A few people,” he hummed an amused note, “have etched an uchiwa, or names, into the band, but mostly it’s not. . . It’s just the ring itself.”

“Engraved names and dates and anything of the kind are usually on the inside. Safe and hidden.” Indra agreed, toying with Tobirama’s fingers.

He tried to imagine the cool weight of a ring among them as Indra did, but he’d never been one to wear jewellery and it didn’t quite fit in his mind. And the engravings. . .

“You would like it if I wore one . . . would you like one from me?” Tobirama asked, thinking. It was _practical_, perhaps, but if people etched the uchiwa, or names, then surely a personal symbol was . . . acceptable. And it would be an item that _never left them_.

If he could get it so small. Surely it was possible.

Madara’s breath caught at the question and he didn’t answer. His eyes were almost like inky pools when he met Tobirama’s gaze, however, and his hands had tightened around Tobirama’s.

“You don’t have to.” Indra said smoothly, and his grip was still loose and easy . . . but there was a yearning look on his face.

This was . . . truly important to them, for whatever symbolism it offered. Even if they were trying not to present it to _him_ that way, probably so as not to push him if he didn’t like the idea. Really, though, it was such a small thing, even if Tobirama hadn’t. . .

Well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _next in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48916364)


	11. Sigil (Rings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _previous in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48693281)

Tobirama inspected the silver of the rings one last time before slotting them both into a silk pouch and tucking it into his sash for safekeeping. It had taken . . . rather more iterations than he had expected before he had something acceptable, but they were finally done - and the pair of them. He had needed both at once, of course.

He shook his head slightly, rising and collecting the things he would need for his day at work and out of the office. He would be able to give them tonight. He smiled and ran his fingers over the fabric hiding them away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loves?” Tobirama said softly, and smiled as he immediately had Madara and Indra both focusing on him. “I . . . have something for you.”

Madara hummed, moving to settle close to Tobirama’s side, chin on his shoulder. “Oh?”

Indra echoed him, moving a little more slowly and kneeling close but not in contact with them, eyes bright and curious.

Tobirama nestled against Madara comfortably, smile widening as he gave a contented little hum at the contact. Tobirama sighed softly, appreciating it himself. Then he tugged out the little pouch he had tucked into his sash earlier.

In a moment he had the pair of silver rings, not quite identical, tipped into his palm and held in view. Madara’s breath caught, his fingers curling into the hem of Tobirama’s shirt, and Indra _reached_ before he stilled.

Tobirama rubbed his thumb over the gleaming silver, then picked up one of the rings, looking towards Indra before he dropped his gaze, tilting the ring. “I etched them myself,” he said softly, “I . . . hope it is acceptable?”

Both his lovers leaned in to look, and Tobirama took a breath as he tilted the ring a little more, letting the light play over the etched design inside.

“It’s like your hiraishin marker.” Madara murmured, stroking Tobirama’s thigh.

“With our uchiwa. . .” Indra barely breathed, hand hovering just above Tobirama’s own.

“Not . . . _like_.” Tobirama admitted, and Madara tensed, looking at him. Tobirama swallowed. “It- It _works_. It took me a while to get it right, and to get the rings perfect, or I would have had them for you sooner. Will-” he paused. “Will you wear them? Knowing that they’re-”

Indra splayed his fingers, moving his hand closer. “Please. Tobirama, please.”

“Yes, of course!” Madara agreed, stroking Tobirama’s forearm without tugging at him. “Tobi, my heart, that’s. . . Incredible.”

Tobirama hesitated, startled, and looked at Madara. He smiled slightly, then dipped his head, nuzzling Tobirama’s shoulder.

Tobirama slipped the ring he held onto Indra’s finger, then picked up his hand and pressed a kiss just above the band. “Love you.” he said softly, releasing Indra’s hand. He flushed faintly, flexing his fingers, eyes fixed on the ring he now wore.

“Madara. . ?” Tobirama began, but Madara was already raising his hand, nearly trembling against Tobirama. “Love you.” Tobirama told him as the silver band found its place at the base of Madara’s finger, and he stared at it with wide, wondering eyes.

Tobirama touched his jaw lightly, then dipped his head and brought Madara’s hand up to kiss his newly-placed ring as well, both of his lovers pressing close against his sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully clear enough to guess, but I imagined the etching as a tiny version of Tobirama's hiraishin but altered slightly using a stylised uchiwa for the circle.
> 
> [ _next in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/49143131)


	12. Settling (Rings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _previous in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/48916364)

Tobirama hummed, sketching out a spiralling array in miniature. It was the fifth version of the array he had laid out since he started work this afternoon, but he had hopes this one would direct chakra smoothly rather than buckling and sparking out.

He startled a bit as a gentle hand slid over his shoulder, then a warm body settled at his right side. Madara’s hair brushed against his shoulder and back as Madara leaned against him, just a little. Tobirama sighed, leaning into his lover in return, but continued his work on the fuinjutsu array.

A few minutes later there was another cosy presence settling at his left, and Indra gave a barely-audible hum as he leaned close to Tobirama.

Tobirama didn’t even realise at first how much their presence made him relax; not until he was finishing the last strokes and noticed how much smoother they flowed from the brush in his hand than the one before. He rinsed it absently and set it aside, looking at the array.

It still . . . _felt_ wrong, when he looked at it, and more so when he pushed a spark of chakra towards the array.

Tobirama sighed.

His gaze slid away from the fuinjutsu array as Madara and Indra each laid one of their hands over his own. He swallowed. His lovers twined their fingers through his own, and he could feel the skin-warm metal of their rings - _his_ rings - on their fingers.

His breath caught and he leaned back a little, only to be squeezed just a touch between them as they snuggled into him, clasping his hands.

Tobirama returned the clasp, shifting just enough to nudge into them both. After a few minutes he allowed himself to be pulled away from his desk, hands still caught in his lovers’, and brought to the lounging area in the main room, where there was enough room for his Uchiha to cuddle him more fully between them.

The possessive, sweet affection, offered - pressed upon him - without words, settled a twanging, uncomfortable uncertainty that had been keeping Tobirama off-balance for days. He looked at the gleaming silver rings they both wore - he could sense the tiny hiraishin variant etched inside each one, that they had been so . . . apparently delighted with - and smiled as he closed his eyes, resting his head on Indra’s shoulder.

Madara kissed his jaw, murmuring an encouragement to relax.


	13. Teaching Day

“Tobira-sensei!”

“Demon-sensei!”

“Tobi-sensei!”

Indra shook his head, eyes slightly wide, as he watched his lover go down under a heap of excitable small Uchiha.

Tobirama was laughing, ruffling hair and patting shoulders, hugging children to him. He had been on a mission for almost two months, and then in the hospital for a few days afterwards. They had missed their sensei . . . and Tobirama had missed them, Indra knew.

“Sure you won’t join us?”

Indra turned to his lover with raised eyebrows, then glanced out at the horde of children.

Madara laughed, sliding a hand behind Indra’s nape and tugging him in for a kiss. “Just for that face,” he said against Indra’s mouth, “one of these days we _will_ drag you out with us for a day of training and games.”

“I shudder in terror.” Indra said dryly, but he returned the kiss all the same. “Have fun. Are you keeping them for lunch?”

“Of course. Probably until they need to go back to their parents; that’ll be dinnertime for some of them.” Madara’s lips pursed slightly as he scanned the group.

“I’ll make extra, then. Send one of the birds to let me know when you’re on your way back, please.”

Madara startled, turning back to him. “You’ll make. . . You don’t have to-”

“I know.” Indra said with a crooked smile. “This much . . . I can do.” He kissed Madara, then stepped back and raised a hand as he met Tobirama’s eyes. “Have fun!” he called.

He got a chorus of agreements mostly from the children, and laughed, shaking his head as he went inside and his lovers gathered their little pupils to head out together.


	14. Birds Everywhere (summon playtime)

Tobirama looked up as Shiarare leapt onto the shelf behind his desk, placing his paws carefully and somehow managing not to knock anything off the half-filled space.

“Why are there _birds_ everywhere?” Shiarare complained, long tail lashing.

Tobirama settled back in his chair, lips twitching. “They live here too.” he said dryly.

“There are birds everywhere and I can’t _eat them_. Or even chase them. . .” Shiarare sulked, cocking his head and giving Tobirama a mournful look.

Tobirama flipped his brush around his fingers idly. “You might be able to; ask, they might . . . _play_ with you.” He arched an eyebrow.

Shiarare’s tail went still, then lashed again, once. “. . .truly?” he asked dubiously.

“The little ones are fast and the big ones are solid. They both fight with their summoners.” Tobirama assured him. Although Madara’s tiny falcons were less _fighters_ and more messengers and scouts; Madara’s fighting style suited either relying on his brothers at his back or _no one_ as he dropped into the levels that rearranged significant swathes of the countryside.

“What if they get hurt?” Shiarare asked, slinking down off the shelf across Tobirama’s desk, casually avoiding any wet ink as he approached Tobirama and butted his shoulder gently.

Tobirama reached up and buried his fingers in Shiarare’s thick coat. “You aren’t to eat them.” he reminded, and slid his hand up to rub Shiarare’s ear. “Training injuries happen, as long as you aren’t trying to harm them I’m sure it will be fine even if someone gets hurt. Go ask, and have fun.” he encouraged, and nuzzled Shiarare’s face. He returned the affectionate gesture with a throaty purr, then leapt down, prowling out towards the garden.

Tobirama watched his cat go for a moment, then returned his focus to his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiarare is one of the clouded leopards I use as Tobi's summons not uncommonly. His name means poem of hailstones and he's a rather aggressive, if playful, creature.
> 
> The little birds are Madara's pygmy falcons, and the big birds are Indra's peacocks, naturally.
> 
> [ _next in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/49845443)


	15. Fur and Feathers (summon playtime)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _previous in arc_ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244727/chapters/49590443)

“Hello love.”

Tobirama stretched and tipped his head, smiling at Indra as he came closer. “Hello pet.” he returned, humming as his lover brushed a light caress over his cheek, letting his eyes close.

“Would you happen to have any idea why there are feathers flying all over the back garden?” Indra asked, and Tobirama stiffened immediately, bolting out of his chair.

“What?” Tobirama thought- Shiarare would _not_ have crossed the line, he knew quite well how to modulate between playing - or training - and battle. But. . .

“There’s fur flying too, I think the birds are giving as good as they’ve got. Even if Nashii is whining.” Madara said with a laugh, and Tobirama’s eyes darted to him in the doorway. He was relaxed, lips curled in a smile. “Your poor kitty is a little outnumbered.”

“Oh?” Tobirama asked, nerves settling a little. “Perhaps it’ll do him some good, to be honest.” he added, but he slipped away from Indra’s light touch and headed towards the doorway, intent on seeing for himself.

Madara brushed a hand over his side as he passed and shadowed him out to the back garden, where-

Tobirama covered his mouth with one hand, strangling back amusement. Shiarare was mid-leap, paws extended and jaws wide, tail lashing, as three of Madara’s little fluffballs shrieked and taunted, spiralling out of reach. One of Indra’s peacocks seized a beakful of fur as soon as he hit the ground again, and Shiarare yowled.

He whirled, batting out with a paw - though his claws were still sheathed - and then flinched back as one of the little falcons dove directly for his face.

The birds were, indeed, holding their own quite well. Shiarare was frustrated, Tobirama could see, but he was also having _fun_.

“I did tell him to ask if they would play with him.” Tobirama admitted, lowering his hand. Indra hummed, an amused expression lighting his face.

“Did he know what he was getting into?” Madara asked with an amused lilt, fingers playing up Tobirama’s spine.

“Probably not.” Tobirama said dryly, leaning against his lover’s side.


	16. Late

Tobirama startled awake with a half-muffled hum in his throat, sure of where he was - home, safe; no need to stifle every reaction - but not-

“Easy, love.” Indra soothed in a soft voice, sliding his hand up Tobirama’s calf. “Only me. Sorry. Hush, Mada.” he added gently, his shadowy figure moving just past the foot of the bed as Tobirama blinked away bleariness.

Madara growled quietly, twisting enough to glare down their bodies at Indra.

Indra smiled - at least Tobirama thought he did; the dim light of the one lamp he had brought left shadows thick in their room - and hummed again. “Sorry, my loves. I only just came in.”

Tobirama grumbled, and Madara rolled onto his stomach, tucking his head down against Tobirama’s shoulder. His thick braid fell across Tobirama’s chest.

“Come to bed then.” Tobirama said, voice thick.

“Mm. . .” Indra rubbed Tobirama’s calf again, then groaned as he moved away.

Tobirama sighed and closed his eyes again, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over Madara’s braid. He could hear fabric rustling as Indra moved about the room on silent feet, and a few moments later Indra eased in at his right side with a brush of warm, bare skin.

Tobirama rubbed his knuckles over Indra’s chest. “Sleep well, pet.” he said, and smiled when Indra cuddled into his side with a thin, not quite mewling sound.


	17. Thorough

Tobirama startled awake with his breath catching in his throat, mind spinning through confusion briefly before he focused on the warm, wet-

Tobirama made a confused sound, identifying a hand splayed just above his knee, and the _tongue_ sliding up his thigh. Light fingers stroked the back of his shoulder, around over his ribs in a slanting curve. “Morning, gorgeous.”

Tobirama shivered and twisted to look up at Madara sitting beside him, hands on his skin. Indra kissed just below the curve of his ass, then all but _kneaded_ at his thigh. “Did we wake you?” Indra asked softly, his tone light.

“You,” Tobirama said, voice thick with sleep, “were _licking me_.”

“Indra doesn’t resist temptation well.” Madara advised, which was not _news_, but-

_Licking._

Tobirama wasn’t . . . exactly _opposed_ to being licked, but it generally didn’t happen at random moments, or while he was asleep, or. . .

“What are you doing?” Tobirama asked, shifting and rubbing at his face.

“We didn’t really get to finish tracing out all of these yesterday.” Madara said softly, his fingers sliding up around Tobirama’s shoulder blade and low at the base of his neck. The highest of his tattoos, Tobirama identified belatedly.

And. . .

“I thought you did a . . . very thorough job.” Tobirama said, feeling himself warming further.

“Mm. . . Not enough of one.” Indra said against his skin, and when Tobirama twisted to look at him his eyes were liquid-dark. He smiled, nuzzling Tobirama’s hip, and then lowered his eyes as he opened his mouth, tongue sliding along the red curve arching over Tobirama’s hip.

Tobirama swallowed. “Oh. How. . . How much more thorough do you need to _be_?” he asked faintly.

Madara laughed, soft and warm, and bent as Tobirama looked back at him. “_Very._” he murmured, and kissed Tobirama, a caress as soft and warm as his voice.


	18. Blue

“That’s not your shade of blue.”

Madara jumped, looking up from the handle of the katana he was painstakingly wrapping in three shades of pale blue. Indra pushed off the doorframe and moved closer.

“. . .or your red.” Indra added, but his eyes weren’t on the patterns carved and highlighted in red on the guard. They were following the delicate wave pattern etched on the blade itself. “That’s . . . a hell of a present, otouto.”

Madara swallowed. “It’s important.” he said softly.

Indra bit his lip, then sank down to the floor opposite Madara’s chair. “. . .to me too.” he said after a moment, because he could only think of _one person_ that katana could be meant for. _Designed_ for.

Indra lifted the box he held onto the table between them and took off the lid, revealing the rich blue silk inside.

Madara’s breath caught as he looked at it.

The kimono folded inside was dyed in rich blue with darker and paler blues in a pattern like a wave pouring down over the shoulders, fading into seafoam trails lower down. On the back there was a huge cresting wave, like the first lashings of a tsunami, reaching up to the shoulders - the source of the waves on the front.

“Oh.” Madara said, fingers tightening on the katana he held. Because there was only one person this kimono could be made for, either.

Their eyes met, a brief, assessing, _careful_ moment. Indra wasn’t surprised to see the depth of his brother’s determination in his eyes; _he_ wouldn’t back down either. This wasn’t a whim, this was. . .

Indra’s heart, called out and carried by one who walked without knowing he held it.

Indra considered. His heart, his brother, his adoration.

“Yesterday, I would have said I never could have,” Indra said carefully, “but . . . if it’s _you_, otouto,” he paused, lifting his chin, “if it’s you . . . I could share.”

Madara settled back in his chair, idly caressing the blade of the katana with his fingertips. He nodded slightly, lips curling just a tiny bit, and Indra relaxed slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . .no, Tobirama has no idea (yet) that there are two adoring Uchiha who desperately want to court him.


	19. Reminders

“. . .ah, Madara?” Hashirama paused at the door, and Madara hummed in answer, waiting. “What is- Ah-” Hashirama gestured at him, and Madara waited another moment, then shook his head, not understanding and waiting for his friend to offer something vaguely sensible. “The- Never mind.” Hashirama grinned brightly and then was gone.

Madara frowned slightly, confused, and sat back in his chair, stretching lazily. He rolled his neck, idly pulling his hair aside over his shoulder, and hummed, toes curling, as a few places along his neck ached pleasantly with the movement.

He reached up, brushing his gloved fingertips over one of the dully-throbbing marks. His lovers’ reminders of them, he thought idly, a grin spreading over his lips despite himself. Indra’s demanding mouth, all wet warmth and sucking hard, refusing to be budged from that one place and bringing up a deep, pulsing bruise; Tobirama’s needier caresses, teeth and tongue and heat, scraping and settling again, leaving half a dozen slightly-raw marks up and down Madara’s neck, the fiercest at his nape.

Madara shuddered, curling into his chair, remembering _that_ one, and all that had come with it; Indra writhing beneath him, trapped and not a hint of wishing to be anywhere else, and Tobirama curling over his back, big and solid and pushing into him, teeth digging into his nape, broad body spread out over him until he felt like he would break apart without that anchor.


	20. Returning Home

“Indra! You’re home!” Madara opened his arms and Indra fell into them with an exhausted breath.

“I’m home.” he agreed, hugging Madara around the waist. He moaned, a shiver running down his spine, as Tobirama’s broad warmth pressed up to his back, sagging into both his lovers with relief.

Madara murmured comfortingly, rubbing his side and hugging him close. Tobirama was silent, but his arms were snug around Indra’s waist and he nuzzled firmly against Indra’s jaw and down his neck, breath warm and ticklish there.

“Rough mission?” Madara asked, stroking his hair and rubbing one thumb by the corner of his eye.

“Just . . . long.” Indra said after a moment to think. “And tiring.”

Tobirama gently nipped his shoulder just at the base of his neck, then lifted his head, nose pressing against Indra’s neck beneath his ear as Tobirama breathed deeply again. “Home now.” he said, low and steady.

“Yes.” Indra said, closing his eyes and soaking in their touch and their voices.

A low rumble built in Tobirama’s throat, and Indra shivered, pressing into him to feel it better, though occasionally such things from their Senju still surprised him just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At times Hatake traits show up (more or less strongly/definitively) in my Tobirama. . .


	21. Proud

“Ah, Indra-sama, sorry to disturb you. . .”

“It’s fine.” Indra said, waving him in. “And honestly, _must_ you?” he added with a slanted smile.

Hikaku grinned back. “I mean, it’s only _mannerly_, right Indra-nii?” he asked playfully as he closed the door behind himself. Indra made a rude noise and Hikaku laughed. “Also you make great faces when I do.”

“I hate you.” Indra told him with a snooty huff.

“The faces are maybe not quite as great as everyone else’s when I skip the formality, though.” Hikaku continued blithely, dropping his file of paperwork on his brother’s desk. “I do wonder where they came by the idea you’ll . . . what do they even think you’ll do, honestly?”

“Eat you? Set you on fire? Smash you with Susano’o?” Indra suggested dryly.

Hikaku snorted, eyes narrowing. Mostly he found his clan’s alarm around his brother to be amusing, but when they grew too distrustful or skittish he did his best to correct their notions. On a few occasions he had mostly succeeded only in making them fear _him_ as well, but he supposed it at least offered a reprieve to his brother.

“Oh what is it today?” Indra asked, arching a brow. “Why are you making that face?” 

Hikaku grinned. “I suspect today they’re rather more in a fluff over. . .” he nodded at his brother, eyes on the reddish-purple bruises practically ringing his neck.

“Mm?” Indra asked, propping his chin in one hand and leaning sideways a bit in his chair.

“You’ve been _showing off_.” Hikaku pointed out, amused. He wasn’t the only one - Hikaku had been working with Tobirama all morning, and he had one livid bite and several smaller, less clear bruises on his own neck - but Indra was . . . bold about it. He easily pulled on the attitude that made it clear he _was_ showing off.

Hikaku wasn’t entirely sure Tobirama simply didn’t _care_ that his lovebites were proudly on display, and Madara’s - he’d had to speak with his Clan Head briefly before coming here - were mostly hidden by his hair and the mantle of his shirt.

“Wouldn’t you?” Indra questioned, half smug and half sympathetic.

Hikaku’s smile wavered for a moment, thinking of sharp features and sharper words, of sweetness and spite and smiles.

“I’m sorry, otouto.” Indra said gently.

“No.” Hikaku smiled at him. “You’re right,” he added with a laugh, “I would . . . were I in a position to do so.”

It brought Indra’s grin back, before they finally at least pretended they were going to work on the documents Hikaku had brought. It wasn’t quite true, though. Hikaku might be proud of such marks if he had them to wear, might or might not even show them off like Indra, but he didn’t think anyone else he knew could show them off with quite the same . . . attitude.


	22. Idiots

Hikaku tracked the course of the battle around the strongest players with half a thought, a long-held habit, which is why he spotted it when Tobirama faltered. Unsurprising - they were close to the edge of Kawa no Kuni, and he had been drawing on his suiton hard, after the day’s hard run to _get_ here, and his senses keyed up to their strongest range. Tobirama was one of the strongest ninja Hikaku had ever seen, but even he had his limits.

Hikaku turned aside a bladed pike with a kunai and narrowed his eyes at his attacker even as he twisted sideways and lashed out with a hard kick, feeling bone shatter as the ninja’s ribs were driven inwards, into his lungs.

Tobirama was wavering, and. . .

Hikaku huffed, sheathing his kunai and flickering across the battlefield behind his friend, flaring his chakra as he approached, knowing Tobirama would sense it. A moment later his friend was staggering backwards, and when Hikaku caught him, nearly dropped into his arms.

Madara was _twenty paces farther off_, the idiot, and Indra barely more than that in the other direction - Hikaku had passed him to reach Tobirama.

“It’s all right. Battle’s almost over.” Hikaku offered to Tobirama, keeping an eye on the flow of the fight as he moved off the field, steadying Tobirama as he sagged lower. It was only a few moments later that Madara and Indra were both heading straight for them. _Now_ they noticed, Hikaku thought dryly.

“Tobi!”

“Why do _you_-”

“Because you’re both _idiots_!” Hikaku scolded them both, scowling. “He’s my _friend_. And _I_ noticed he needed help.”

Tobirama laughed softly, tilting his head against Hikaku’s shoulder, and he huffed, but calmed himself.

“I’ll take him back to camp. Why don’t _you_ . . . finish up here.” Hikaku said dryly, and didn’t leave much time for protests before he started moving.

“I can walk.” Tobirama said, and Hikaku hummed non-committally - he _knew_ his friend - but let him try before catching him around the waist and shoring up his shoulders when he started to sway again.

“Sure you can.” Hikaku said evenly, and Tobirama growled. “You only dumped half an ocean of chakra into this mission thus far, honestly,” he said sharply, “I don’t know _why_ you’re being so pitiful about it.”

Tobirama huffed sulkily but stopped protesting so much at the reminder.

The makeshift camp they’d set out from that morning was built up a little more now; at least one of the other teams had already returned to it.

“Hey! . . .hey, why do _you_ have him?” Izuna asked, coming out of a tent.

“Your brother _and_ mine are idiots.” Hikaku said succinctly. “Tobirama needs to rest. Everyone’s fine.”

Izuna’s eyebrows rose, but he stepped out of the way and didn’t argue.


	23. Appearance

“Are you ready?”

Tobirama eyed himself in the mirror, carefully checking the lay of his collar. “Yes.” He turned towards Mito with a smile. She arched a brow. Tobirama didn’t react, collecting the sheaf of papers he had set aside on his way to join her.

“Whatever _were_ you so absorbed in that needed handling before we go to meet the ambassadors?” Mito asked in a low voice as they walked together.

Tobirama smiled slightly, thinking of the soft-edged blooms of colour splotching his throat in three places. He didn’t raise a hand to run his fingers over them, even through the fabric, though if he’d been alone he would have.

“Just a few last moment adjustments, and making sure I’m presentable.” Tobirama said evenly. “And really? _The ambassadors?_”

“Hrmph.” Mito said, with rather less delicacy than most people expected of her. For what reason Tobirama could never pinpoint; she was graceful and lovely, and the epitome of a lady of nobility, but possibly the only person Tobirama had met who was _less_ delicate than Mito was _his brother_. “It is what they are.” she added loftily.

“They’re also your cousins.” Tobirama pointed out dryly.

“Only because it would be impolitic to disown them entirely.” Mito jested with a snort, making Tobirama snicker.

They both collected themselves as they turned the corner and approached the meeting room where the ambassadors from Uzushio should already be awaiting them.

Mito glanced at Tobirama again, sweeping her gaze over him curiously, and Tobirama knew she would continue trying to puzzle out - or wheedle from him, as soon as they were alone once more - what he had been so concerned about regarding his appearance, which he never fussed over.


	24. Time for Rest

Madara rolled his brush back and forth idly with the tips of his fingers. It was dry, but he had ink ready to mix, and papers that needed looking into, and a report that needed reviewing, and. . .

A flash of pale flesh striped with bloody crimson made him freeze, then slowly lift his head.

Tobirama padded further into his study, wrapped in a _very _short yukata. Madara wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t supposed to be a _shirt_ of the style Tobirama wore most days rather than an actual yukata.

He swallowed hard.

“Don’t you think you’ve worked ahead enough for one day?” Tobirama questioned, leaning forwards and trailing a single elegant fingertip over the surface of Madara’s desk, not disturbing any of his work.

“You’ve already finished _everything_ that had to be done this _week_. . . I know you have.” Indra said, yawning, as he almost slouched into the room. “Come on, won’t you come to bed with us?” he asked, coming around Madara’s desk, hands sliding down Madara’s arm and tugging at him lightly.

Indra was pouting, his eyes a little hazy with sleep and his hair braided back neatly for the night already. He wore a thin white yukata; unlike Tobirama’s it was the proper length, but it was . . . very thin and very soft. And Indra had tied it into place very loosely, no doubt because - as Madara knew - he would shed it before actually sleeping.

Madara licked his lips, then bit the lower one.

Tobirama moved around to his other side, fingers stroking absently through his hair, body warm against his arm. “Won’t you come relax with us, love?” he murmured coaxingly, thumb brushing the top of Madara’s ear.

Madara closed his eyes, shivering and leaning into the contact with them both.

He gave in, pushing away from his desk and allowing his lovers to draw him up and into the warm space between them.


	25. Kisses and Allowances

“Mm?” Indra squeezed Tobirama’s hand as he moved closer in answer, Madara mirroring him on Tobirama’s other side.

Tobirama turned, leaning his back against the railing that overlooked the drop down to the river. He met first Madara’s eyes, then Indra’s, and his lips turned down into a soft, plush pout.

Indra swallowed, moving even closer. “Tobirama?”

“Is something wrong?” Madara asked, resting a hand on his shoulder, expression creased with concern.

Tobirama drew a breath and sighed, looking away, and anxiety twisted in Indra’s stomach.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Tobirama asked, and the question was so unexpected it actually took a moment for Indra to process it. Madara made a strangled little sound, eyes wide. “I. . .” He paused, drawing a breath. “You’ve been courting me, both of you, and- It’s been so long. . .”

“We’re-” Indra broke off.

“You would allow. . ?” Madara questioned, a little more steadily.

Tobirama’s lashes fluttered as he looked from one of them to the other. “_That_ was why- _Yes!_” He tugged at Indra’s hand and caught hold of Madara’s forearm, pulling him in closer. “Please! Yes! If- If _you_ want to- _Mm. . ._” he purred, melting under Madara’s fierce, quick kiss, eyes slipping closed.

Indra swallowed, watching them, stomach curling with desire and pleasure. He could feel Tobirama’s hand shake in his clasp.

Madara drew away slowly, nuzzling their noses together and stealing another slow, lingering kiss, Tobirama all but clinging to him. Then he looked to Indra, nudging Tobirama gently, and he swayed easily, head turning towards Indra as well.

Indra pressed bodily against him, barely giving him space to catch his breath, and kissed him slow and hot, winding his free arm around Tobirama’s shoulders, fingers sliding over his neck. Tobirama moaned softly, fingers brushing his cheek, and nuzzled into his kiss, returning it with needy warmth.

When Indra pulled away Tobirama all but leaned with him, squeezing their twined fingers. “Tobi. . .” Indra breathed. Madara nuzzled his cheek and kissed his jaw.

Tobirama sank back against the railing once more. “Revision.” he said softly, a little breathless. “You are _not_ allowed to kiss me.” Indra’s heart lurched and Madara tensed. “You are _required_ to kiss me. As hopeful intended I can set rules like that, can’t I?”

Indra blinked, then laughed, nudging his cheek against Tobirama’s shoulder.

“You can,” Madara said, rich voice rippling with laughter and warm with affection, “though that’s not really what the practise is for.”

“Objections?” Tobirama asked, arching a brow.

“You may have as many kisses as you like,” Madara assured him, moving closer; Indra could feel his warmth, “whenever you like, _always_.”

“Good.” Tobirama said with a smug little hum, squeezing Indra’s hand. “Good Uchiha.”

Indra strangled down the little sound of delight he wanted to make and only kissed Tobirama’s jaw, rubbing his thumb over Tobirama’s hand.


	26. Underwater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus one today as it's Madara's birthday . . . though this is not a birthday story specifically.

Indra twitched, breath catching, as a caress slid up his inner thigh. He opened his eyes, shifting, and glanced sideways, arm brushing Madara’s. Madara met his gaze, brows arching, and Indra shook his head slightly, shifting again and scanning the water.

It rippled, which didn’t catch his attention until he realised it was . . . rippling in the opposite direction as the gentle flow in over the one lowered side should have sent it. His eyes narrowed. He took a breath-

“As though you mind.” Tobirama said, with a sly smile, waving his fingers. The water rippled again, then slid over Indra in a gentle, all-encompassing caress that stole his breath and made him waver.

Madara slipped an arm around him and Indra moaned softly, leaning into his lover, cock aching with the barely-there caresses. “I’d prefer _you_.” Indra said throatily, and Tobirama laughed softly, sliding off the bench opposite them.

“That can be arranged.” he said, and slipped under the water, a ghostly shape beneath the surface as he crossed the pool quickly. Indra gasped as Tobirama’s hands slid up his calves and pressed lightly at his inner thighs, a quick caress of fingers and then lips brushing his cock before Tobirama rose from the water again before him. “If you would like.”

Indra made an incoherent noise and Madara kissed his neck, fingers tickling over his ribs, smoothing down to his hip. “I think he would like that.” Madara said, laughter bringing his tone a soft rumble. “I know _I_ would.” he added archly.

Tobirama laughed and settled closer on Indra’s lap with a slide of warm, slick skin, leaning over to kiss Madara softly. “You may have whatever you would like of me as well, you know.” he promised, and then promptly went pliant, all but melting against Indra’s chest with a low purr as they both reached for him.

Tobirama let himself be pulled easily between them, tipping his head back as Madara kissed down his throat and groaning against Indra’s mouth as his hands ran over Tobirama’s chest, teasing his nipples and scratching lightly along his ribs. Then Tobirama shivered and twisted, eyes sparkling with playful heat, to sink below the water once more.


	27. Useless Uchiha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . . .or at least a bit flail and also sometimes oblivious. ;)

Madara smiled slightly, reaching out and sliding a hand up over lean muscle striped with bloody crimson. And hadn’t _that_ taken adjusting to before his reflexive reaction at seeing it in the low light, half-asleep or from the corner of his eye, had been panic at the extensive injuries that must have spilled so much blood. . .

“_Mmm. . ._” Tobirama moaned lazily, stretching, slow and easy, under Madara’s caress.

He settled down beside his lover, leaning down and kissing his shoulder blade. He resisted the urge to bite along the spiralling curve of a tattoo that passed along the crest of bone.

“What was Izuna mumbling about?” Tobirama asked, half into the pillow beneath his head and shoulders.

Indra laughed, and Madara raised his eyebrows, lips pursed.

Indra grinned unrepentantly. “Oh, it seems he’s trying to . . . ah . . . _practise_. Flirting. Or making himself known.” he said, voice rich with amusement. Tobirama tensed and shifted a little beneath Madara’s hand, and he rubbed more firmly, an absent gesture. “Apparently the mirror in his room is called Hikaku now . . . and he is _most_ distressed it hasn’t noticed his advances.”

Tobirama snorted, and Madara had to fight not to laugh himself.

“Hikaku _will_ be pleased. Assuming he manages to voice any of it to the real one.” Tobirama said, then shifted lazily, yawning. “He’s been trying,” he said sleepily, “for _months_.”

“What?” Madara questioned, leaning closer. “_Trying?_ He’s. . .” He glanced up and saw that Indra’s expression showed the same startlement he felt.

Tobirama hummed, and Indra stepped closer. “What do you mean, storm-heart?”

Tobirama was still and silent for a moment, then he rolled over, looking at Madara, then Indra. “. . .honestly, Uchiha are _useless_ \- are you sure Hikaku isn’t the one with an outClan parent, Indra?” he teased, snorting.

“Hey!” Indra protested, and Madara prodded Tobirama pointedly.

“We have _you_, don’t we?” Madara pointed out, arching his brows.

Tobirama laughed, a warm smile curving his lips. “That you do, my loves.” he said, voice low and sweet, sliding a hand up to rest at the nape of Madara’s neck.


	28. Patterns and Games

Tobirama breathed a little half-moan, half-laugh as he allowed Madara to turn his arm over and bring it higher over his shoulder, then past his head, trailing kisses up along the inside of his elbow and nipping at his upper arm.

Indra’s fingers smoothed over his calf, and Tobirama spread his legs a little wider helpfully, laughing as he heard Indra choke on a soft groaning noise. His breath tickled Tobirama’s inner thigh, making him shiver, and then he felt Indra’s lips brush his skin, following the swooping curve of another of his tattoos just as Madara reached the point of the one that ended on the ball of his shoulder and left it with a biting kiss.

Tobirama moaned low, tilting his head, and Madara smiled at him, his face half-hidden by the long swoop of his fringe, but his neck bared by the knot he’d pulled the rest of his hair into. Tobirama’s eyes trailed down his throat, and he twitched as Madara turned his head and his hair flicked across his jaw.

Indra’s tongue trailed along another curving line, nudging Tobirama to turn his leg a little as he followed it around the outside of Tobirama’s thigh and up towards his ass. Tobirama moaned softly and wriggled, breath catching as Madara’s fringe tickled his collarbone and Madara’s mouth ghosted past his nipple to find the tip of another curving red tattoo.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting his arms rest where Madara had left them above his head, breathing a little shaky under Madara’s kisses. Indra hummed and nipped at the side of his hip, and Madara nuzzled his belly, testing his teeth there and making Tobirama groan, shifting his legs.

Madara rested a hand on his right thigh, not quite forcing him to still but tugging at him, and Tobirama’s breath caught as his pulse jumped. He didn’t fight the tug, and one of Indra’s hands mirrored Madara’s, the other splaying over his ribs as he struggled to even out his breathing.

Then-

“What are- are you doing?” Tobirama asked, voice hitching. “There aren’t any tattoos _there_.” he pointed out, slightly more steadily.

Indra nuzzled deeper in at the top of his thigh, tongue sliding over the crease of his groin and making him keen. Madara lifted his head a little from nibbling along Tobirama’s iliac crest, the tips of his hair teasing Tobirama’s hip instead. “Mm . . . very close, though.” he said with a playful smirk, catching Tobirama’s gaze. “I think it counts.”

Tobirama opened his mouth, then closed it again with a low sound of pleasure as Madara dipped his head again, keeping Tobirama’s gaze as he kissed his way into the divot running down from the crest of bone, just beneath the edge of one of Tobirama’s tattoos. Indra, biting and sucking firmly, set himself to raising a bruise just past Tobirama’s groin, the loose hair around _his_ face feathering against Tobirama’s cock. He jerked and whined, and Indra’s fingers curled, scratching lightly along his ribs.

Tobirama moaned a wordless, needy protest, and he _felt_ the soft, warm laughter from both of his Uchiha as they stroked, kissed, and _nibbled_ along the vibrant red lines of his tattoos. The attention they drew from his lovers was forever leaving Tobirama uncertainly thinking of adding _more_.

He groaned as Madara moved lower, approaching Indra on the opposite side, his cock twitching and as yet still neglected as his lovers focused on whatever pattern they were building out from his tattoos. Tobirama whined, crossing his forearms and catching firm hold of the headboard, using the pressure of his grip to distract himself, but he . . . didn’t try to stop them, or urge them on any faster.


	29. Petting and Preening

Indra groaned, shifting where he lay and allowing his arms to be pulled up and back for a moment as his kimono was freed from beneath his shoulders and then slid away entirely. A hand smoothed his feathers, though they had barely been disarranged by the careful removal. Indra stretched a little, letting his wings fall lax at his sides.

Warm hands caught the leading edge of one wing, and he shifted a little as Tobirama nudged it up and closer to himself again. Indra hummed, then _moaned_ as the caresses lightened and spread into languid, long strokes. Clever fingers delved between feathers, their tips just brushing at the tender skin beneath.

Indra ruffled his feathers and then all but crooned with pleasure as another pair of hands pushed into his thick feathers, gentle and warm. Madara’s fingers sought out the oil glands unerringly and exerted just enough pressure as he preened and petted to make the bones in Indra’s wing shift and stretch, relieving the taut pull.

Indra moaned, blinking sleepily and nestling face-first into his pillow as his lovers’ hands languidly tended to his messy wings, with the occasional stroke across his back or through his hair. He shifted and stretched, bumping into Tobirama’s hip on one side and Madara’s thigh on the other, close and warm, and smiled contentedly into his pillow.

A hand combed through his hair and kneaded at the nape of his neck and Indra drifted lazily closer to sleep, basking in the deliciously cosy doting attention and unwilling to quite give it up yet, even for the tempting lure of sleep cuddled between his lovers.


	30. Tea Makes Everything Better

Madara winced and exchanged a look with his brother. Indra sighed, mouth twisting, and nodded. He kissed Madara’s cheek and crossed the room towards their lover, and Madara lingered just enough to see him gently brush a hand over Tobirama’s shoulder and not be rejected, then moved away.

Madara kept his senses focused on them as he went about making tea, rifling through the cupboard - why were his and Indra’s favourite teas, and even Hikaku’s and Izuna’s, all far easier to find than Tobirama’s? - with little attention. Tobirama’s chakra was icy and pulsed with frustrated displeasure. But no hurt, to Madara’s relief. He was upset and angry, but not hurting.

Which at least removed several upsetting possibilities for what had so distressed him.

Tobirama’s chakra had begun to uncoil a little from its tense, lashing currents by the time Madara rejoined them in the main room. Tobirama looked up from his place in Indra’s lap and Madara knelt at his side with a soft smile, putting the tray down and pressing a cup into his lover’s hands.

Tobirama took it with a wordless hum of thanks, cool fingers brushing Madara’s cheek. He tipped his head and kissed Tobirama’s knuckles, and he almost smiled. Indra nuzzled his shoulder and hugged him tighter.

Tobirama sipped his tea and hummed again, warm with pleasure this time, lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. Madara met Indra’s eyes over his shoulder, then moved closer, pressing a kiss to Tobirama’s shoulder and then fitting himself at their sides, smoothing a hand over one of Tobirama’s thighs.

Tobirama sighed, shifting slowly and unfolding his legs. His fingers brushed over the back of Madara’s hand and he twined their fingers, even as he tugged and drew Tobirama’s legs over his lap, pulling an almost-laugh from him. He relaxed into the slow strokes of Madara’s hand up and down his calf and squeezed his hand gently, lounging back on Indra easily with little more than another gentle nudge.

Indra arched an eyebrow at him and Madara shook his head slightly. They could coax Tobirama into sharing what had so upset him and perhaps offer help - either to figure it out or to fix it, whatever it was - but . . . later. If he was relaxing _now_, let him relax. Indra nodded slightly in agreement and pressed a kiss to Tobirama’s temple.


	31. Between

Tobirama slid his hands up Indra’s back, smiling at Madara over his shoulder. Madara grinned back and tilted his head.

Tobirama hummed, winding his fingers into Indra’s hair and tugging gently, pulling him back and up on his knees. Indra moaned and almost fell back against Tobirama’s chest, and he shifted to support his lover carefully, freeing one hand and stroking down Indra’s chest and stomach.

Madara reached back and pulled his hair over his shoulder, wrapping it around his wrist and keeping it trapped in his hand as he bent, out of his way. Indra, head tipped back on Tobirama’s shoulder, didn’t see him moving. Tobirama tilted his head just enough to watch, licking his lips.

Madara cast his gaze upwards, smirked, then took Indra’s cock into his mouth, free hand sliding up Indra’s thigh to his hip. Indra moaned breathily, hips twitching, and Tobirama hugged him tighter, steadying him as Madara sucked hard at his cock and began to move.

Tobirama reached down and found the end of the smooth steel toy buried in Indra’s body, pressing at it just enough to shift against his sweet spot. Indra cried out, then went limp, whining softly as his head lolled back on Tobirama’s shoulder.

Madara moaned around Indra’s cock and another powerful shudder went through him, his hips rocking in hesitant little half motions between Madara’s mouth and Tobirama’s fingers teasing at the toy inside him.

Madara shifted a little and tilted his head, taking Indra in deeper, and he moaned, long and low, just a little breathy. He’d stopped being able to manage words a little while ago, and only moved with their touches and guidance as varyingly intelligible pleasure-soaked sounds spilled from his lips.

Tobirama rocked the toy and pressed it a bit deeper, and Indra shivered and pressed even closer to him. Then Tobirama pulled it out, slow and teasing, gentle with his stretched rim, and Indra _yowled_ in protest.

Madara pulled back a little, laughing, hand splaying low over Indra’s belly. Tobirama couldn’t quite stifle his own laugh either, even pressing his mouth against Indra’s shoulder. He nipped lightly, and arched his hips to press his cock against Indra’s back, making him moan and nod sloppily, clutching at Tobirama and Madara with seemingly thoughtless need.

Tobirama kissed his shoulder again, then pulled him up higher on his knees - careful of Madara moving with him, mouth opening for him again - and fit his cock against Indra’s hot, slick rim, already slightly swollen from stimulation. Tobirama hummed a question, but Indra was already trying to move against him, whimpering.

Madara hummed, stroking Indra’s thigh, and took his cock deeper once more even as Tobirama arched and pushed himself inside.


	32. Formal

“It’s a reasonable method of linking our clans . . . and _our families_.” Tobirama said quietly, stopping the scroll as his brother pushed it back towards him. “You can’t afford to dismiss this out of hand, Anija, not if you want this peace you’ve been struggling so much to attain.”

“A little hollow, don’t you think?” Hashirama asked, frowning.

“I’m not proposing an _alliance_ purely for the advantages we might take from it.” Tobirama snapped, eyes narrowed. “You honestly think I would offer myself up like that? So carelessly?”

“Otouto, I know you . . . will do almost anything for a goal when you take it on,” Hashirama said, and Tobirama bristled at the tone, “I am very glad you have finally seen that peace is the way forwards!” He put a hand over Tobirama’s own, and Tobirama snatched it back, fingers curling inwards.

“I’ve agreed with you it was wiser for us all since we were children.” Tobirama grit out. Not that Hashirama had ever listened to _him_ about it - not since their brothers died. His precious friend, yes; his brother . . . no. “I am _not_\- not- _sacrificing myself_ for the treaty-”

“You may not feel that way, Tobi,” Hashirama said, eyes sad, and Tobirama rose to his feet, “but a marriage is-”

“I am proposing to make an official political link between the Senju and Uchiha with a marriage,” Tobirama said, slow and sharp, “I am proposing it be _my_ marriage - hell, proposing it all - because it is _not just a political link I want_!”

“Tobi, I don’t know what-”

Tobirama bellowed over his brother, ignoring his _concerned_ face. “I am-”

“Tobira, calm down.” A gentle caress as a hand smoothed over his spine, and a slightly firmer one squeezed his shoulder.

Tobirama shuddered bodily and leaned into Indra at his back, turning his head aside and fighting the burn of furious, painful tears. His brother truly . . . didn’t understand, didn’t _listen when he spoke_, and- and it hurt.

He met Madara’s gaze, and he bowed his head and leaned into Tobirama, humming soothingly, then turning to glare at Hashirama. His chakra was practically sparking with fury and it . . . eased some of Tobirama’s own to feel it.

“Do you _ever_ listen, you splinter-brained dolt?” Madara snapped, easily drowning out Hashirama’s voice with his own. Tobirama vaguely saw his brother looking between the three of them, making little confused noises. “Uchiha don’t _do_ arranged marriages - not like _you did_ with your _dratted wife_!”

“Tobi, you see, it wouldn’t-”

“Tobi was willing to make _our marriage_ into a gesture that would reassure people, would quiet some of the shouting from the elders, and we agreed _to his suggestion_ on those grounds, but if you’re so _kami-be-damned_ stubborn that you won’t accept that, we don’t have to.” Madara’s voice dropped into a rough, smoky growl. “And if we’re not doing that,” he said, sliding his hand down Tobirama’s arm, “I suppose we don’t have to worry about you being involved . . . and upsetting _our beloved_ any more.”

Tobirama startled, then laughed, surprised and touched and-

He wound his arms around Madara and buried his face in Madara’s wild hair, Indra stepping up at his back with a soft hum, squeezing him between them.

“You might also consider whether the _entire_ compound, your Clan and mine, can _hear you arguing_ when you’re bellowing at your brother, next time.” Indra said, his voice steely and sharp. “Assuming he even wishes to return to be shouted at and derided again.”

“Indra- Pet, it’s all right.” Tobirama said, shaking his head. “I’m used to-”

“That’s _not_ better.” Madara growled, and hugged him tighter. “Come on, come back with us and let your brother . . . think things over a little.” he added tightly.

Tobirama glanced at his brother once, then at the scroll - the formal alliance he had drawn up, with a little help from his lovers - his _intendeds_ \- and his cousin.

Then he let his Uchiha draw him away, still caught protectively between them.


	33. Illness

“You know,” Madara said conversationally as he wrestled Tobirama down carefully, leaning on him, “I should have _known_ you’d be a _terrible_ patient.”

“Fuck you.” Tobirama rasped.

“Not until you feel better.” Madara countered flippantly, and Tobirama stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then rolled his eyes. Madara snorted.

“You’re one to talk.” Indra said, coming back in behind him. “You wouldn’t even admit you were sick for a week and a half, last time.”

“What he said.” Tobirama said, and winced as though speaking had hurt.

It probably had; Tobirama had been coughing and wheezing for weeks now.

“Stay quiet.” Indra ordered before Madara had a chance.

. . .though, knowing their lover, Madara probably would not have put it quite like that, himself.

Tobirama frowned, a mulish look on his face, but he did not, amazingly, protest in words.

“I have your tea.” Indra said, sitting on the edge of the bed opposite Madara and glancing at him with a soft smile. “And your medicine.”

“Fantastic.” Tobirama said, and his expression dared either of them to comment. Madara sighed and let it go, helping Tobirama sit up as Indra mixed the medicine in a fresh cup.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on [Dreamwidth](https://kalira.dreamwidth.org), [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/Kalira), or [Tumblr](http://kalira.tumblr.com/)!


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